


The Lost Ones

by LoneWargHowling



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Depression, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Thorin is a Softie, because I live in a place called the Nile, but way deep inside, likely very little smut, post-Smaug but pre-company
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4560387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneWargHowling/pseuds/LoneWargHowling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kala had never felt quite...right, like she didn't belong. The feeling had been there since she was born, but it wasn't until the age of three or four when she mentioned it to her mother that she realized it wasn't normal.</p><p>The feeling got worse and worse as she aged until she was twenty-one and wondering why she bothered continuing on. </p><p>Then, before she knew what hit her, she was whisked into a world she thought to be fantasy, destined to go along on a suicidal quest in the attempt to change the fate of not only the ones she grew to love, but all of Middle Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This isn't what she meant when she asked for an adventure

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, though I have written other things (just random story ideas that enter my mind), so I ask you to tread lightly. If I have an spelling or grammar mistake, please point it out so I can fix it. I have no beta, so any mistakes are my own and possibly abundant. This story was slightly inspired by Scratch on Our Skin (which I recommend, if partly because I'm a sap for soulmates), which gave me the idea of teleportation across worlds, but other than that, there is almost no overlap.

A bird was singing. In fact, multiple birds were singing, seemingly in relatively close proximity to her. But that wasn't right. Why would there be birds in her room. She furrowed her eyebrows, clenching her hands in agitation, only to immediately relax them in surprise at the feeling of grass under her fingers instead of sheets. Suddenly, she became aware of warmth on her face and light shining behind her eyelids. Had she fallen asleep on a hike again? It had happened from time to time when she sat down to rest and inadvertently taken a nap. But no, that didn't seem right either. She distinctly remembered...her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. She couldn't actually remember where she had been last, but she knew for a fact she hadn't been outside.

"Are you going to get up yet? We haven't got all day," a voice said, slightly gruffly. Her eyes shot open to see an tall, oldish man dressed in grey hovering above her, leaning on a staff. He head a long beard and and similarly-grey pointed hat atop her head. Before her eyes could even widen in fear, he held out a hand to calm her. "Relax young one, I mean no harm." And oddly enough, she believed him. She wasn't sure if it was because he looked old, and old people just seem trustworthy, or if was because of the comforting tone of voice he used. Either way, she nodded slightly in acknowledgment, relaxing further into the ground for a moment before sitting up. The man helped her up when he saw her struggle slightly. "Careful young one, you've had quite the journey." He chuckled to himself, his eyes sparkling slightly in a way that seemed to say he knew something she didn't. For this reason she ignored him and instead turned to the area around, taking everything in. She was sitting on soft, green grass beneath a couple trees. Softly rolling hills spread out before her, with a steep, craggy hill (though perhaps 'hill' was an understatement) some ten yards behind her. Just in front of her was a dirt road leading off to the left and right, as well as straight ahead into the hills.

For the life of her, she could not figure out where she was. And then she looked at herself.

She was wearing clothing she had never seen before in her life, as well as some light armor. She wore a light blue undershirt, over which lied a brigandine, the metal plates suspiciously shaped like dragon scales. A dark green surcoat rested over top of everything and was belted with a wide black belt. Looking further down, she noticed dark brown breetches tucked into almost-knee-high leather boots, steel-capped and reinforced in the front. Vambraces protected her forearms, laid over-top the sleeves of her undershirt, and knuckledusters lied over both hands. She could feel pauldrons strapped over either of her shoulders. A sword, scabbard and all, was strapped to her left hip, and if she wasn't mistaken, a knife was shoved down her right boot. The only familiar garment was a dark blue and black plaid ruana lying on her shoulders that she had gotten a few years before when her sister...she shook that thought from her head before it could go any further.  _You have to forget_ , she thought forcefully.  _You have much better things to worry about. Like were the hell you are._

The soft movement of something on her chin pulled her up short. Reaching up, she rubbed her face, feeling unfamiliar hair brushing over her finger tips. It wasn't long enough for her to really see, but if she wasn't mistaken, she now possessed a beard. Did that mean she was a...no, she still had breasts. Thankfully the rest hair on her head was familiar: the same blonde, slightly-loose ringlets she had grown up with. Not as riotously curly as a Hobbit's, of course, but still cur-her mind stopped dead in it's tracks. Her head snapped to the old man she had woken up to.

"You're not supposed to be real," she said, her voice rough-from sleep? Gandalf smiled at her in delight, straightening up.

"Ah, I see you are finally remembering." She just blinked at him in shock. "And I can assure you that I am very real." She ran a hand through her hair, pulling on it when she reached the end.

"If _you're_ here, does that mean _I'm_...?" she trailed off weakly. Gandalf nodded, leaning on his staff.

"Welcome to Middle Earth, Kala," he said, spreading one arm wide. She didn't bother questioning the fact that he knew her name-he was Gandalf, after all.

"But how...? Am I in the book? But you look just like-" she asked, confused, but Gandalf cut her off.

"Sir Ian McKellen, yes. Rather dashing man, if I say so myself," he said, smiling smuggly. Kala rolled her eyes and snorted, glancing around again as Gandalf continued speaking, taking everything in in a new light. "And yes you are in the book, but here you aren't," he answered cheerily, that damned light in his eye that she knew far too well. She just stared at him, unimpressed.

"You're worse than an elf," she grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms. It felt weird with the bracers, but she guessed she would have to get used to it now. He laughed, moving towards her and slowly lowered himself down beside her, seeming for all the world a slow old man. But Kala knew just how wrong, and deadly, that judgement could be.

"Such unkind words so soon after meeting," he said. "To answer your question in what you would consider a more proper way, I believe there is a theory in your world called the Multiverse Theory, about how there are an infinite number of universes. To put it simply, you have been dropped into a universe with Middle Earth, but there is also a universe where you are in the book." She sniffed and looked away.

"Never believed that multiverse shit, guess I have no choice now," she muttered. But then she realized something that caused her to straighten and uncross her arms, a smile quickly overtaking her face. "That means there's a universe where I'm Thorin Oakenshield," she said, snickering to herself. Even Gandalf let out a laugh at that.

"I would not say that to him if I were you. It will not win you his favor," he warned lightheartedly. Kala rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

"I'm reckless, not stupid. I do value living." Gandalf laughed more at that. Then she thought of something.

"Has Smaug..." she started softly, dread welling up inside her, causing a knot to form in her stomach. There was the possibility Smaug didn't even exist, let alone take Erebor. Her face dropped when the smile fell from Gandalf's face and he nodded grimly.

"Yes, the worm as taken Erebor, along with many lives, but it is still a few years before the company sets out." She looked at him in horror, as memories of what came after slowly filtered into her head.

"Does that mean...The Battle of Azanulbizar...Frerin and Thrain...?" Gandalf nodded again. They sat in silence for a moment, sorrow seeming to weigh down the air between them, making words impossible, before a thought hit her and she couldn't seem to control herself.

"I'm a dwarf right now, aren't I?" Gandalf gave a startled laugh at the sudden change, but nodded. The weight seemed to lift off their shoulders with a passing breeze. "Explains the beard," she muttered to herself, stroking said beard slightly. "Always kind of wanted a beard. Seemed convenient to keep your face warm...why am I a dwarf?" She directed the last part at Gandalf. He smiled.  _There's that stupid twinkle again. Never hearkens anything good._

"Because you were about as much of a dwarf as you could get while having been born of the race of men." That made absolutely _no_ sense, and would only count as an actual answer to Gandalf and maybe Elrond. He also seemed to be holding something back, but Kala knew that Gandalf never held something back unless he had a reason, so she didn't worry about it. "Although certain things may be...enhanced slightly now that you are a dwarf, I imagine you will keep your, let's say, more  _hobbit_ -ish aspects." He smiled slightly, in that way where his eyes crinkle and everything seems to feel alright, like he's sharing a secret with you. "Like your love of nature and the wind in your hair. How you will always covet the simple beauty of life and growth above jewels and gold."

"Even if I never seem to be able to make anything grow," Kala grumbled good-naturedly. Gandalf laughed.

"But you will have dwarfish aspects, as well, such as that. As well as the stubbornness, thick-headedness, and aggression, but also the unfailing loyalty, love of family, and sense of honor." She smiled slightly, before a thought came into her head that made her gasp.

"Please tell me this is universe where Thorin and Bilbo are a thing. It's  _so_  cute!" She gushed slightly. Gandalf laughed the hardest yet when she asked him that, to the point that it took him a few moments to compose himself enough to respond.

"I think you will be good friends with Fili and Kili. But I can tell you that yes, they are a 'thing'," he chuckled. She cheered in excitement, throwing a fist into the air. But then another thought hit her like a brick wall, hitting hard enough to practically knock the air out of her lungs.

"Please tell me this  _isn't_ a universe where Thorin, Fili, or Kili, or any combination thereof, die at The Battle of the Five Armies," she asked desperately. Her chest tightened almost painfully at the thought. Gandalf just looked at her with that godforsaken light in his eyes, not giving away anything.

"To take a line from River Song in that one show: spoilers." She huffed at his answer, flicking some of her hair over her shoulder.

"You and her would be good friends." 

"In a different universe we are best friends; in another, worst enemies." Kala scowled at him darkly, but said nothing. For a while they just sat in peace, enjoying the air and birds. Eventually, she sighed and looked at Gandalf. He looked back with that seemingly all-knowing gaze of his.

"Why am I here?" she asked quietly. Gandalf huffed and hummed slightly and pulled out his pipe. She waited patiently as he prepared and lit it, puffing little smoke rings as he stared off into the distance. She didn't ask again; this was Gandalf, she knew he was going to tell her, he just needed to think a bit.

"As you probably know, the creator of this realm, as well as all other realms, including the one you came from, is Eru. He crafts everyone and everything with tenderness and love, taking painstaking care with every detail so they are just right, and fit in perfectly into the realm they are designed to live in. Well," he amended, "Aule, also known as Mahal, created dwarves, and Yavanna the hobbits. But Eru imbues all beings with their spirits." He pauses to take a deeper puff. "But there are those who would disrupt this careful order. Melkor, for one. They try and force people to be born in the wrong universe, where they will never be able to feel completely at home. Most of the time Eru is able to stop this from happening, but rarely,  _very_ rarely, he is unsuccessful. But even then, he has some small control, so whatever universe the being ends up in, he makes sure they are born to a race as similar as possible to the one they were designed to be. They are never able feel like they completely belong, but they have always been able to find happiness and peace, and when Eru saw this, he decided that he would leave them where they were born, never the wiser that they were meant to be born in a different world.

"But Lost Ones, as Eru calls them, are very few. Never more than one in a universe at a time, with few universes having had one in the first place. And because they are few, Eru had never had the problem of there being no race in a universe for a Lost One to fit into well enough. Until it finally happened. A dwarrowdam, meant to be born to Middle Earth, was thrown into a universe where there was but one race, and one that matched her poorly, in a time period that did not suit her at all. Eru was worried for the dwarrowdam, knowing she would have a hard time finding peace in that world. Desperately he fought for her to be born earlier than she was allotted, knowing that if she were born to a certain group of the race, she would have fit in enough to be happy. He had never been able to change when the Lost Ones were born before, but there had been so few, he thought it might be possible for this one. But he failed." Gandalf stopped and sighed, not continuing for a while. Kala couldn't help the pain she felt for this dwarrowdam, doomed to a life where she could know no peace or happiness.

"He could not change when she was born, so he watched in despair as she grew more and more miserable as she aged. Eventually, she was able to come to terms with her misery a bit, and she grew more confident. But the pain never really left, and she never knew true happiness or peace. She stayed swept in the depression she had been in since she was a child, feeling like she never really belonged. She searched for her place in the world, but never seeming to be able to find it. Eventually she discovered dwarves, the race she had been preordained as, fictional in the world she was born to, and couldn't help the kinship she felt with the beings." Kala could feel the blood start to leave her face as Gandalf described what happened, but he didn't seem to notice her plight as he continued puffing his pipe. "Eru couldn't help but feel conflicted when he saw that the dwarrowdam was almost happy and at peace when reading fictions on dwarves, learning as much as she could about them and their world, even going as far as to learn their language. However, he knew she would never be able to find true happiness and peace in that world, no matter how many fictions she read.

"And then he realized something. He may have left the other Lost Ones to live their lives, but it was only because he knew they would be happy enough in their worlds. But he did not have to do that with her. He may have had no control over the universe she was born into, but he could still put her into the world she was meant to be in. So he came to a decision. He would bring the dwarrowdam to Middle Earth, changing her into the dwarf she was always meant to be, and he would send someone to explain everything to her, even if it seemed to take awhile to get to the explaining part." With that, Gandalf stopped and stared at Kala while he continued to puff on his pipe. The only thing she was capable of doing was staring at him in shock.

"I'm the Lost One," she stated when she finally came back to herself enough to form a coherent thought. Gandalf nodded, humming slightly in agreement.

"If you had been born earlier, to the Norse people, and grown to become a Viking, you would have been happy enough that Eru would have left you alone, never knowing that any of this existed, fictional or otherwise," he said quietly. She lied back and closed her eyes, running a hand down her face.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"More alive and... _right_ than ever before," she sighed in bliss, lethargically opening her eyes to look at him. That smile was there again, the one that seemed to make everything feel alright. She guessed this whole 'Lost One' thing was what he was holding back before. "I guess I have had quite the journey," she murmured to herself. Gandalf removed the pipe from his mouth a moment and nodded.

"I am not sure what kind of effect the travel between worlds has had, as well as the..uh...," he harrumphed slightly in that way Gandalf does at times when he's at a loss for words, chewing on the end of his pipe slighlty, before continuing, " _change_  might have had on you, so we will be resting here the rest of today and tonight. Although later, I would like to assess your skill with that blade of yours." He nodded at her hip. Kala looked down at her left hip at the shining sword that was definitely  _not_ the crappy wooden sword she had gotten at some medieval place years before when she was still a child. "You must have some skill for Eru to give you that. I do not imagine he would grant a weapon to someone who did not know how to use it," he said, titling his head and giving her a perceiving look.

"I-I guess so. I mean, I had a wooden sword I practiced with, b-but I probably suck, especially compared to people who have had actual training," she stuttered slightly. Gandalf just hummed and stuck his pipe back in his mouth. And then she realized something (it'd been a big day for realizations).

"Um, Gandalf, I know aging works differently between Men and Dwarves, and if I were twenty-one, like I was as a human, I would still be a child as a dwarf, but I definitely don't  _look_ like a child, so...?" That entire sentence was a mess, but she figured she was allowed to be a bit out of sorts, all things considered. Gandalf hummed and blew a smoke ring, watching it as it circled around their heads a few times before disappearing.

"One of Eru's smarter ideas-at least in the frame of-" he cut himself off and harrumphed again, gesturing to her with his pipe. "He made you the same level of maturation as a dwarf as you had been when still of the race of Men. In other words, you are now forty-three years old." She looked at him in surprise.

"Eru really thought of everything," she muttered to herself, absently tugging at her beard her short beard. Though she still was not sure if the whole giving-her-an-actual-sword bit was a good idea.

"I hope you are not finding the change to unpleasant," Gandalf said, motioning to her hand. Kala stopped what she was doing and shook her head.

"No; as I said, I have always wanted a beard," she said, while running her fingers as best as she could through the aforementioned thing. Gandalf grumbled something about dwarves and beards under his breath before sighing.

"I would give you proper dwarfish braids if I knew how, but alas, it is not a skill I possess. And even if I did, the minute we got to the Blue Mountains, someone would redo them just so that a dwarf did them." Kala chuckled at his words, before fully registering what he said. She chose to ignore Gandalf's expression at her double take.

"The Blue Mountains?" she asked, her voice going up a pitch. Gandalf nodded (she was getting a little sick of that).

"I have some business with Thorin, and I figured I would take you and introduce you to them. You could use the connections, I am sure." She just stared at him. She was going to meet Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the  _fucking_ Mountain.

"I think I'm going to take a nap," she murmured, feeling a little faint, before laying back down. _This isn't what I meant when I asked for an adventure,_ she briefly thought before darkness pulled her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably go back through later and edit it, but I really need to do homework right now. Just as a forewarning, you probably shouldn't expect particularly frequent updates. I have a lot on my plate, since I'm taking four AP classes (for those who know what that means; for those who don't, it basically means I'm taking four college-level classes in high school), which means a lot work, though I seem to be getting ahead in my work already (knock on wood). I also tend to have problems with just having the will power to write, and if my muse fails...anyway, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, as well as suggestions for the story. I have some things planned, but I'm a pretty loosey-goosey writer (I'm not sure what that phrase I just created means, either), so there's room for some plot suggestions and such. I'm also open to any writing advice you may have, since I know my voice can be a bit flat (honestly, any help is seriously appreciated). I just ask that you're polite with your suggestions.
> 
> UPDATE: Okay, so I finally edited it. I'm actually pretty pleased with the results. I will try to remember to put a notice in the next chapter to look at this. Hopefully.
> 
> ~Meg


	2. Go hobble into a ditch, you old coot

When Kala awoke from her nap, she and Gandalf discussed the situation further. Obviously they couldn't tell people she came from a completely different universe, or any of what actually happened, so they came up with the story that Gandalf found her unconscious on the side of the rode (at least that part was true) with a head wound (that certainly wasn't), with little recollection of her past life besides the fact that she had been raised by and around Men, but had had some contact with dwarves (to explain to fact that she knew Khuzdul). Since she was going to have to pass off as having lived in Middle Earth her whole life (she couldn't pretend to have forgotten everything, since she did have basic knowledge already from the books), Gandalf decided it was best to give her some basic history and geography lessons as they traveled to the Blue Mountains.

It was a warm summer afternoon, the sky a brilliant cerulean, the sun's rays bright and cheering, neither too hot nor too cool. A soft breeze teasingly rustled the leaves overhead, carrying the thick, heady scent of wildflowers and long-dead memories of summers past, back when...Kala harshly swallowed to get rid of the sudden knot in her throat. Just, back then. Another breeze and the chuckling of the leaves echoed like the familiar sound of children laughing in her ears, the sound a stinging balm to her nerves. _Even in a different universe I am plagued by the past_ , she thought bitterly, ignoring the morose edge to her thought. Desperate for a distraction, Kala forced her thoughts towards more immediate issues. Like how she is some Lost One that was born in a universe that she was not meant for (thanks Melkor) and who had then been transferred in a never-before-done act to her proper universe which just happened to be one of her favorite series. That was a lot to take in. Then another thought crossed her mind. Gandalf had said there were other Lost Ones. It wasn't likely, but maybe-

"What are you thinking about so hard, young one?" Kala blinked in surprise as she was pulled out out of her thoughts by Gandalf's voice. She glanced at him to see him looking at her with one bushy eyebrow raised. His hat was lying on the beside him-and wasn't  _that_ a weird image, Gandalf without his hat on-his back against one of the trees, pipe in one hand while he puffed lazily on it.

"Well, I was just wondering-it's just, you said there were others, other Lost One's, that is-"

"You were wondering if there were any Lost One's here," he stated, thankfully cutting off the odd stream of nonsense coming out of her mouth. She responded with a sheepish nod, pulling at the leather strap of one of her bracers. He humphed, nodded once, and went back to puffing his pipe, looking straight ahead and decidedly not at Kala. She waited a moment, two, still nothing.

"Ya gonna answer?" she asked, deadpan. Gandalf glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, never moving his head. Her lips pursed when she noticed that old sparkle in Gandalf's eye. The old codger was messing with her!

"My, so impatient, young one," he chastised teasingly.

"Go hobble into a ditch, you old coot," she muttered. His sparkled with laughter, but had no outward reaction to my words, instead turning his eyes forwards again and focusing on making smoke rings. They sat in silence a while longer, Kala simmering in her annoyance, before Gandalf finally relented.

"Well, I suppose curiosity is not a bad thing. If you really must know, there is a Time Lord that was instead born as an Elf," he replied, a sigh in her voice.

"Rather appropriate," she murmured, rubbing a hand against her stubble. That was going to take some getting used to.

"I thought so, too," he mused, chewing on his pipe. They shared an amused glance before Kala shot a grin over at him.

"Three guesses who," she said cheekily. Gandalf looked at her amusedly, his eyebrows seeming to wriggle with a life of their own.

"Alright, who do you think it is?" he asked. Her grin widened as she leant towards him a bit.

"Thranduil." He roared in laughter, actually scaring off a bird resting in a tree above them with an indignant squawk.

"You happen to be right," he said when he managed to calm down enough to speak, his eyes twinkling with laughter like the stars. She snorted and shook her head.

"Nobody is that ornery when they feel at peace and like they completely belong," she pointed out with a smirk. Gandalf chuckled slightly, grabbing his hat as he stood up.

"Up you get," he said motioning to her before setting his hat back on his head (thank God, he looked so weird without it. It's like Indiana Jones without it-Just not right). "You have not moved from that spot since you entered Middle Earth. I want to make sure you have your legs before I assess your swordplay." She groaned but listened to him, pushing herself slowly to her feet. Her legs felt a little weak and ached like she had run a few miles-in fact, she ached a little all over, but overall she seemed to be okay. Not missing any limbs or anything, which was good. She would hate to be splinched. She took a few careful steps before stopping, her face twisting into a fierce scowl. Gandalf looked at her in worry, a hand reach out to steady her if need be.

"Is something wrong, young one?" he asked, his eyes scanning her body for any sign of trouble. Kala just scowled all the deeper and looked down at herself.

"I'm shorter," she growled angrily, fists clenched at her side. Gandalf laughed heartily, but quickly stopped with a humph and a clearing of the throat when she shot him a look that promised a slow and painful death.

"You are of a different race now, young one. A  _shorter_  race. As Eru adjusted you age, so too he adjusted your height. Fear not though, you are still five feet and one inch tall. You only lost four inches. Many, in fact, most, dwarves are shorter." She just glared at him, before deciding to ignore him and continued walking, the scowl belying the careful grace behind her steps. Gandalf led her to the horses he had tethered not too far from where she had awaken. She was just glad she had a horse, even if a small one, and not a pony. She might have snapped if that were the case.

"This one," he said, gesturing to the larger, buckskin horse, "is my horse, named Myth. That," he pointed to the smaller, grey-dappled horse, "is Petal. She will be your horse for our journey to the Blue Mountains, and as long as you will have her after." Kala walked carefully over to Petal, raising her hand to pet her nose.

"Hey there girl. How are you?" Kala whispered, wrinkling her nose in joy at the unexpected velvety-softness of her nose. Petal snorted, throwing her head around for a short while before bumping her nose a few times into Kala's hand. She couldn't help laughing at the show, feeling lighter than she had in years. "I'm glad to hear that." She rubbed Petal's nose a while before stepping away. Gandalf and Kala continued walking, picking up firewood along the way. It wasn't quite late enough for a fire yet, but Gandalf did still want to asses her swordplay. She couldn't help the apprehension that rose in her stomach like a vice at the thought, seeming a lead weight pulling her down and force strangleing her throat at the same time. She was about to mess around with an actual, sharp,  _lethal_  sword. Mahal preserve her, but that was going to end poorly.

Too soon they were heading back to where Kala had woken up, where she began setting up the wood for a fire while Gandalf retrieved their bedrolls and supplies for food from the horses. Lost in her thoughts of dread and being impaled, she perfectly set up the fire without of even realizing it, far better than she had ever been able to before. It wasn't until Gandalf pointed it out that she came back to herself and noticed what she had done.

"Seems being a dwarf has helped things already," he commented casually, leaning on his staff-where did he even pull that from? He must have picked it up while she was zoned out. She merely hummed in agreement, still absorbing what her hands had been able to do on autopilot. What else could she do now...? "Now then," he continued, straightening up, "before we light the fire, it is time to see what you can do with that blade." Kala slowly got up, reluctantly removing the familiar fabric of her ruana from her shoulders and throwing it over one of the bedrolls. She didn't even have time to examine the pauldrons that were exposed now that she no longer wore her ruana before Gandalf led her a short way off to the left, in the opposite direction of the horses, presumably to avoid spooking them. He laid aside his staff before drawing his sword, the metal catching the light and reflecting it in a shining beam. "Well, get your sword out already, young one," he said, motioning impatiently to her. She huffed, but awkwardly removed the blade from its sheath, trying to be very careful and not nick herself with it-she had no desire to literally fall on her sword. A light _zing_ went down her spine when she fulling unsheathed the sword and it was able to gleam in the light, the feeling causing her to shiver from-what? anticipation? She couldn't help the odd _connection_ she felt with the sword, as if it were imbued with a small part of her soul. She knew swords were supposed to act like an extension of your body, but she didn't think it was supposed to be quite this literal. With no small shock she realized the blade was perfectly balanced for her, although in retrospect she guessed she really should't have been surprised at that point.

"What make is this? I don't think it's Elvish-" She was cut off before she was able to get a good look at it by a slight flash of light to her right. Instinctively, she brought her blade up to block, before swinging her own strike under his guard and up into his ribs. Gandalf flicked his sword in a circle of flashing light to deflect her blade. She brought her blade back and quickly got into a defensive position, one foot back slightly and left arm held out a bit for added balance, watching Gandalf's moves with a keen eye. A flicker of light and she braced her left foot back, her blade arching underhand to intercept the jab, the screech of metal on metal ringing in her ears like a symphony meant only for kings. And then before she could register what was happening, a switch seemed to flip in Gandalf and suddenly attacks reigned down on her. She was barely able to defend against them all, her sword flickering in and out, seeming to take on a life of its own almost, slightly guiding her swings and parries, let alone make attacks of her own, but she managed to get a few nips in. The air around her seemed to lighten slightly, but Kala didn't have time to think on it when a swing came towards her neck. She absentmindedly ascribed it the adrenaline coursing through her body and the light reflecting off the blades and out it out of her mind.

But in the end, she just couldn't match the blows of the far more experienced swordsman and after what seemed like hours, but may have been no more than a minute for all she knew, she was lying on the ground, breathing heavily (she was _not_ gasping for breath, thank you very much), her sword on the ground a few feet away, just outside her reach, with Gandalf's own sword held carefully to her throat. Then Gandalf quietly sheathed his sword, while Kala just lied on the ground. It was rather lovely-the ground that was. She don't have to expend any energy just laying on the ground. It was very cool, too, rather nice on the little, over-heated skin that was exposed. The sky was rather nice, too, with the blue fading to burnt orange. Then a hand stuck in her face wrenched her from her revelations. She stared at it in confusion for a few moments before realizing Gandalf was helping her up, so she took the hand, heaving up with a grunt and a groan. Mahal, did her back just crack?

"Cheer up, young one; you're rather good with a sword, better than I was expecting," he said cheerily, patting her on the back. But for all that he was outwardly smiling and laughing, she could see the calculating, almost worried, look in his eyes. He didn't seem like he wanted her to notice, though, so she just grumbled under her breath, grabbing her sword from the ground, trying to suppress the groan at the movement. She took a second to examine the sword. She was vaguely surprised to see there was not a single nick in the blade, though surprise with anything connected to Eru was slowly fading. The metal of the blade was swirly and rippled, like a freeze frame of flowing water. _Damascus Steel?_ she questioned internal, running a finger along the flat of the blade. The metal also seemed to have a light blue hue to it-no, that wasn't quite the right way to describe it. The blade seemed to faintly glow with a soft blue light, different from that of blades forged in Gondolin. It was a softer, paler blue-but now it was fading, and the steel merely had a blue hint to it. Then she noticed the inscription running up the length of the indent in the blade- _the fuller_ , she reminded herself. The characters seemed to retain the glow, so soft it was hard to tell against the blue of the steel, and emitted a light warmth when Kala ran her fingers over them. Immediately she felt stronger, more alert, some of the leadeness falling from her limbs. The glow seemed to ebb and flow softly in her soul, and she couldn't help the shudder that ran down her spine as she removed her fingers from the characters. She turned the sword over to find a similar inscription on the other side, though, on closer inspection, they characters appeared to be different. Either way she had no idea what they said. Maybe she should ask Gandalf-

"Are you going to light the fire in this age, young one?" She jerked her head away from her inspection of the blade to look at Gandalf. He smiled at her, his yes sparkly in jest, but still containing that calculating look. No, she shouldn't ask Gandalf, not now anyway; it would just worry him further.

"Why don't you do it, old man?" she drawled sarcastically, and carefully returned her blade to her its scabbard before heading over to light the fire. She couldn't help but smirk when Gandalf spluttered at her words.

" _Old man?_ Why the disrespect for the elderly these days, I'll say," Gandalf harrumphed. Kala snorted and shook her head, striking the flint to light the fire.

"Gandalf, you've been in existence for only-Eru-knows how long. You've transcended _elderly_. It doesn't count for you anymore." Gandalf scowled petulantly, huffing on his pipe. 

"There are beings besides Eru who know how long I have been in existence," he muttered. Kala just rolled her eyes and went back to lighting the fire. In short order, the fire was lit, the wood popping and crackling merrily, while she and Gandalf relaxing next the fire as the sun slowly sank into a bank or orange and purple.

"You never answered my question, by the way. And what was that crap you pulled, swinging you sword without warning?" Kala asked crossly, glaring over at the wizard.

"I merely figured you might perform better on instinct," he said innocently. "I was correct, of course." She rolled her eyes at his words, turning her gaze to watch the flickering flames as dusk settled upon them. "As for the blade, you are right that it is not of Elvish make, though you will find that it is not of the make of any in this world. It is the make of Eru, with none to match. It is a blade that will serve you well." He nodded firmly.

"So what should I say when someone asks, for I know someone will." Gandalf stopped and scratched his head in thought, looking into the flames with furrowed eyebrows. She looked smugly on, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back into the tree.

"Well, uh-" he cut himself off with a humph. He harrumphed for a bit, taking out his pipe and fiddling with it, eventually lighting it. Periodically he would open his mouth to say something, before his eyebrows would furrow and he would close his mouth again, taking a puff on his pipe as if that would facilitate his thoughts. Kala looked on in amusement as she went about getting their meal ready and cooking. Sword practice made you surprisingly hungry, and she didn't anticipate Gandalf coming to a conclusion any time soon. Kala couldn't help the amusement she got out of watching Gandalf so silent; it wasn't often Gandalf was at such a loss for words. The stew was halfway finished before he finally spoke again.

"You could say you inherited it from your father as an heirloom created and kept within the family," he suggested, but he didn't seem optimistic, his brows pulled low and a frown upon his lips.

"And how would I know that?" Kala said, looking innocently at him from under her eyelashes as she stirred the stew. She had difficultly restraining the cheeky smile that threatened to overtake her lips when she saw the peeved look he sent her. "I don't even remember where I used to live or how I ended up here." She motioned to the area around us. "Why would I recall something as obscure as that?" He narrowed his eyes at her for a while, before they widened and a large smile spread across his face.

"Yes, that is it! You do not remember where the sword came from, or what make it is, only that you woken up with it on you. You have the faintest inkling you got it from your family, but you cannot be sure." He sat back chuckling slightly, looking very smug and proud of himself. Kala rolled her eyes, but stored the information away for later. They didn't talk much after that, both content to sit in the calming silence of the coming night. A cool wind blew over them, sweeping away the lingering heat from the day. After their meal, they sat on our respective bedrolls. She had pulled her ruana on again, as it was surprisingly chilly now that the sun went down, even with a fire roaring, and was laying with her arms behind her head, staring up at the stars.

One of her favorite things to do whenever she was sat at some kind of fire was look up at the stars. She always found them fascinating, the white, twinkling lights set against the deep, black sky, like light shining through the holes in a garment. She enjoyed looking for the few constellations she knew, the familiar shapes soothing to her mind, and finding other shapes among the stars. Sitting around a fire, and looking up at the stars always gave a sort of...peace. She could never be angry, and when looking at the stars, she found it hard to be worried or scared, either, despite her problems with the dark. The light of the stars promised strength and protection from the world, shimmering like a mother's warm smile. Her favorite constellation had been Orion's Belt (well, Orion in general, really, but she found it easy to find the belt). Any time she would see it in the night sky, no matter where she was, she would point it out. It drove her sister crazy.

Kala smiled slightly at that thought, the thought of her sister not painful for once, and throwing her gaze to the stars, she could see the familiar line of stars that depicted Orion's Belt. But the stars seemed unfriendly here. It felt strange to her, seeing it from a different world, and probably having a different name. These stars had seen different things from those in her world, and seemed be different for it, perhaps a bit colder, harsher. They were not a welcoming home, a soft embrace to return to at the end of the day. It left her feeling like a small piece was missing, like a cog was just slightly off somewhere inside me. The sky was a stranger in familiar clothing and offered no comfort. It left her feeling slightly out of place, like a small inkling that she didn't actually belong in this world that she was meant for, but that she knew nothing of.

"Will you miss anything?" Kala was slightly startled to hear Gandalf's voice. Oddly, her hand automatically twitched slightly to her blade and she tensed, but when she registered that it was Gandalf, she immediately relaxed. She didn't have to ask what he meant; she knew he was asking if she would miss anything from her past world.

"The stars, for a while. They seem familiar but different at the same time. I feel like I have to refind myself in them, remake my home." Her words were perhaps a bit poetical for her, but they came easily and seemed to explain how she felt, so she let them lie. She didn't look away from the stars when she answered, gazing around, as if trying to find some sense of home, some sense of familiarity, in them.

"Will you miss nothing else?" he asked quietly. "Your family?" She glanced at him for a second, but returned her gaze to the sky above her. She was sure there would be other things she would miss, like toilet paper. A wry smile crossed her lips at that thought but it fell off after only a moment. But her family? She had no family left; she thought Gandalf would know that, but she guessed even he didn't know everything.

"I'm sure things will come to me in time, but I doubt there will be anything I achingly miss." She paused a moment, before deciding to continue. "I have no family. I would have thought you would have known that, but I doubt you would have asked if you did," she said quietly.

"Even I am not privy to all the information in the world. Eru works in mysterious ways, after all; but I am no less sorry to hear about your family," he said solemnly. Kala nodded her thanks, closing her eyes against the stars for a short while, the hole the left seeming to ache within her. "Would you like me to teach you a few constellations and their names? I think it would help you settle into them easier." She opened her eyes to see that soft smile that seems to vanquish the dark. She couldn't help but smile in return, nodding her head slowly. His smile widened as he began to pick out the easier constellations, pointing them out to her, and even giving her the story behind them. That night she fell asleep hearing about Menelgavor and the defeat of Morgoth, the sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard for The Last Battle seeming to echo in her ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am so sorry for the long wait. It took me forever to find the time to finally edit and add to what I had written. The only reason I was able to was because I had a four day weekend. Anyway, comment and kudos are appreciated! If I make an mistakes, please inform me. I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own. As I said before, I am completely open to plot suggestions and any writing advice. I just ask you please be polite. Thanks!
> 
> Also, for anyone who thinks Kala is way tall for a dwarf, that effect is intentional. I wanted her height to reflect the fact that she is not the epitome of a dwarf due to the circumstances of her birth, similar to the presence of her Hobbit-ish aspects. The entire point is that her being born in a different universe and then being brought over changed her, and made her something more than what she would have been. Also, when I searched, I found that Thorin is 5'3" and really tall for a dwarf, and Fili and Kili are somewhere between 4'6" and 5', with Kili being the taller of the two, and I wanted her to be slightly shorter than Thorin while still taller than Kili (admittedly, mostly to frustrate him).
> 
> ~Meg


End file.
